The Doctor's Song
by MikhailColferCriss
Summary: This story is now continued in The Beginning of a Great adventure... If you want to read it look there x


So... This is my first ever fanfic... I hope it's some good? Disclaimer- I really obviously don't own Doctor Who.

Prologue...

Damn robots. Of all the places to lock him- a bloody wardrobe? Wardrobes were for things like giant evil dollhouses or possibly Hitler- when the time was right. He was The Doctor! For crying out loud! And he was locked in a wardrobe. He tried sonicing the door but it was to no avail. Not that he expected it to be. By Rassilion he hated wood! Twiddling his sonic screwdriver in one hand, he began to search his pockets with the other. When your pockets are bigger on the inside, you never know what they might hold what would be of use to you. His search was successful. With a childlike grin on his face, The doctor Soniced a message on to his psychic paper. It read- 'Second wardrobe to the left, Come if convenient, if not, come anyway.' followed by a set of space, time co-ordinates. It had been ages since he had met up with his dead wife... Suddenly the lock exploded inwards, the door swinging open with a slow creak. The Doctor squinted for a second as his eyes adjusted, then laughed and hopped out of his temporary prison.

"Hello... Sweetie." Smiled River Song as she lowered her gun.

"You know you really need to do something about that, Doctor... Highest security prison in the known universe- piece of cake... Put you in wardrobe though..." she glanced up at him as she started pulling out her diary- her eyes filled with that playful superiority of hers. He squirmed under her gaze and wrung his hands a little- feeling the need to defend himself...

"It's sonic... It doesn't work on wood." she laughed and they started to walk. They were in one of the great red deserts of the planet Blox, in the Suzariam Star System, and the only things in sight were the vast, orange sky, expanse of red sand and 7 old oak wardrobes. The planet had been ruled over by subterranean robots since the second sun had mysteriously disappeared and it's native people had died out. There had been a huge argument with the Shadow Proclamation over whether the Robots should be allowed custody over the world, and they had become rather paranoid; they presumed everyone who landed on the planet was trying to take it from them. To be honest, The Doctor had just been looking for a nice stroll.

"Thanks by the way, River." She looked up and he looked at his shoes.

"What for?" he smiled sadly.

"The usual- for coming when I called." She laughed gently and held her little blue book out of his line of sight. The doctor retrieved his matching one from one of his 'bigger on the inside' pockets.

"Okay... Have we done Jim the fish?"

"Jim the fish... Yes of course- ages ago! I last saw you on Mars!" This made the Doctor smile again, remembering the rather bizarre adventure River had pulled him into trying to save a colony of flying fish (who couldn't swim) from an oncoming flood.

"So that means you've done The Pyramids then... wife..." At this she laughed, albeit quietly.

"Okay the last place I saw you was... Manhattan. Sort of..." River grasped his hand in her own, ignoring the sort of. River knew The Doctor would never stop missing the Ponds, her parents, and at times she almost hated herself for leaving him with the guilt. She knew this was irrational of course, but she had encouraged Amy to go. She felt as though she needed to make excuses- prove to him that it was the right decision. Try and wish away some of her own guilt as well.

"They're alright Doctor- I dropped off the book a few weeks back, Amy's pregnant again! They're happy, you know. They asked me to make sure you weren't alone..." River drifted off as The Doctor went still and looked at her nervously, a sudden realisation bringing panic to his eyes.

"Doctor... Doctor what's wrong... What have you done?" He shifted uncomfortably in her gaze and looked at the floor. Sometimes she hated that man.

"Ah... Um..." He tried to think of the best way to phrase it. The look in his wife's eyes told him he should be swift about it.

"I'm not alone actually. Ah... Clara... I seem to have forgotten which wardrobe they left her in."


End file.
